


Of Rabbits and Apples

by Amberstarry



Series: Tales from Lyperia [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Apples, Chance Meetings, Childhood Friends, Gathering, M/M, Magic, Magic-Users, Rabbits, Racism, Romance, Separations, Violence, foraging, harvesting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-01
Updated: 2015-01-01
Packaged: 2018-03-04 18:44:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,571
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3082160
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Amberstarry/pseuds/Amberstarry
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In the land of Lyperia there are two warring races: the Angine, an omniscient people that have the power to alter the world around them at will, and the Shina, who have lesser elemental power influenced by the seasons. Castiel, an Anginian, is in the forest one day when he meets Dean, a Shinarian, by chance, and while at first their relationship is uncertain, they soon become unlikely friends.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Of Rabbits and Apples

In the land of Lyperia there lived two races that, for the most part, lived in harmony and solidarity together.

The first of these races were known as the Shina. A mischievous and capricious people; Travellers from other lands were often prone to likening the Shina to pixies, and in fact such a comparison would be completely justified: the Shina being close cousins to fairy folk. The two cousins were so similar they even shared physical traits, Shinarians having pointed ears, rounded faces and slim body structure as their pixie brethren. The most noticeable difference between the cousins being that while a pixie's magic was normally limited to helping plant life grow, a Shinarian was able to master any elemental magic he or she so desired.

The second race was the Angine, an ancient people who over time had become quite omniscient. It was often in the power of an Angine to warp the world around them – something a Shina could only dream about. Angine members had very specific outer characteristics – almost all of them were fair complexioned, blue-eyed brunets. The Angine, while possessing a great amount of power, were usually happy to keep it to themselves unless the situation called for it. In this way they could co-exist with the Shina peacefully without a mammoth power imbalance that could lead to unnecessary fear and violence.

Of course this was all until the Great War.

After several millennia the Angine grew tired of curbing their power for the sake of the Shina. Many grew to resent the stifling of their abilities and started talking of rebellion – why should they have to ignore their inheritance? Why should they not be able to exercise, learn, teach and perfect the power that they possessed? It had been accepted for so long, but revolution clouded the air and soon small fights that broke out in random parts of the forests spread to towns - and a whole new era of feuding commenced. These fights ranged from being between the Angine factions – those that believed the old ways were fine and needn't be changed and those who proclaimed injustice, to Angine who were simply sadistic and enjoyed watching the deaths of innocent unsuspecting Shina. Soon the Shina became wary and afraid of the Angine, and the two races separated themselves: Lyperia becoming a victim of unintentional apartheid.

Since that time it was very rare that Shina and Angine intermingled and if they did it was usually in the form of a lynching or a very forbidden secret affair. So was the state of Lyperia after the Great War between the Shinarians and the Anginians.

And thus the setting for our tale is set.  
An unlikely meeting of two whom never should have met.

* * *

 

A gasp.

A wheeze.

A cough.

The boy's lungs burnt. He had never run so long or so fast before – to the point his head ached, sweat dripped down his face and his legs felt like they were liable to buckle underneath him at any moment. Then again, he had never been in such danger.

The day had started off regularly enough; he was out foraging berries for his family, the forest being ripe with fruit this time of year, when he had come across a group of women chatting quietly amongst themselves. They were all dressed in silver-blue robes and muttering about "unimaginable power". The boy instantly knew from their choice of clothing that they were Wielders – those of the belief that the Angine should use their magic freely. The boy didn't see the fuss about it all really, but his father had warned him about the Wielders:

" _Stay away from them. They won't take kindly to you – not a Conserver. If you ever see one, run."_

He had said that years ago when the boy was very young. The boy didn't see himself as a Conserver either though. In his mind it had always been a stupid argument. People should be able to do what they want – if they wanted to wield their magic, good, and if they wanted to conserve it, great! It was much ado about nothing.

But then they spotted him.

The tallest woman, with the almond-shaped eyes had turned and caught sight of the boy spying on their conversation. Within seconds the trio were on him.

"You boy! Who are you? And from which faction do you hail?" The woman demanded, closing the distance between them.

A second woman, the one with curly hair chuckled darkly. "I hope for your sake you're a Wielder, boy, you'll be in big trouble if you're not."

The boy could not tell them of his family, consisting of generations upon generations of Conservers. So he did what his father had told him. He turned on his heel and ran, kicking up moss and dirt in his wake. He bolted through the underbrush, over tree roots and flower bushes, further and further, deeper and deeper into the forest not daring to look back. At first there had been shouting from the women telling him to stop - but that had soon faded and now the loudest noise was the sound of the boys laboured breathing. Yet he did not stop because he knew that if he did he could be killed on the spot – Wielders had no mercy and no patience; that is what he had been told, and what he knew.

So obsessed was he with getting away from the Wielders that he ran until he was half-awake on his feet, and bumped into another person who just happened to be in his way.

"Hey!" the person yelped, falling over from the impact of being run into. "What do you think you're doing?"

The boy fell on top of the person and quickly scrambled to get to his feet. "I'm so sorry, I didn't mea-" but the boy could not finish his sentence, for what he saw took his breath away.

Still on the ground sat a second boy, who was undoubtedly the same age, with short dirty-blonde hair and bright green eyes that stared at him angrily. To some this might not have been such a sight but to the boy it was astounding – he had run into a Shina! You see the boy had never met anybody besides other Angine, and all Anginians had brown hair and blue eyes. This was the first time he had encountered a person with different features and they were beautiful: more beautiful than he could have ever fathomed.

"What's the deal?" the other boy asked, getting to his feet. "Who are you?"

The boy stumbled over his next words. "M-my n-name is Castiel. I was running from Wielders, I-"

The other boy cut Castiel off. "So you're an Anginian." He began to circle Castiel, taking in his grey tunic with white moon patterns embroidered into it, and long grey pants. "I've never seen an Angine before."

"I've never seen a Shina before," replied Castiel, wary of the boys gaze. As much as Castiel was revelling in the sight of an in-the-flesh Shinarian, he could not forget the potential danger this boy posed. If he hated Angine like many Shina did, he could be just as dangerous as the Wielders Castiel had previously been outrunning.

The boy smiled. "I guess we're in the same boat then." He stuck out his hand. "I'm Dean, Dean Wintercress."

Castiel tentatively shook Dean's hand. "Aren't you worried about talking to an Anginian?"

"Not really." Dean shrugged, his green double-breasted shirt crumpling slightly from the movement.

"I don't believe you," Castiel said, feeling that this Dean was being just a bit too nonchalant for his liking.

Dean bent down and picked a dandelion that was growing from the ground. He stood back up, making sure the dandelion was in full view for Castiel, and gently waved his hand around the dandelion clock. Several streams of golden vapours poured from the boy's hand, until the dandelion clock slowly folded in on itself and blossomed into a small flower. He extended the flower to Castiel, who did not move to take it. "This is my power," he said, pulling the flower back to himself and gesturing to it, "It's not great but it's pretty neat. If you have the ability to turn this dandelion into a tiger, who am I to dictate you should or shouldn't use it? One thing the past generations never thought about was free will; if all Anginians' power is automatically being subdued then isn't that stripping you of the freedom to use or not use it of your own accord? I for one think it's a load of crap. Do what you want and whatever will happen will happen."

The forest, previously full of natural noises such as animals scurrying through the bushes and birds chirping high up in the trees, seemed to go very quiet as Castiel listened to Dean's speech. He nodded slowly. "I agree. To each their own, I've always thought. I can't help but be wary though, I've been told all my life to avoid people like you – as well as Wielders. It's hard to ignore those voices in my head telling me to run."

"Totally understandable," Dean said, dropping the dandelion and dusting the pollen that had fallen from the flower off his hands. "If you want to run back to where you came from, go ahead. No judgement here. All I'll say is that it would be awful fun to get to know each other. How many opportunities do you get to meet a Shinarian?"

The voice of Castiel's father rang out clearly in his head. He should run, run and not look back until he was back home, safe and in bed. That would be the right thing. Or it would have been had Dean been anything like his father had warned him against. He wasn't hostile or violent or hell-bent on exterminating every Anginian he saw as Castiel's parents would have had him believe. In fact he was intriguing and mysterious, and just a little facetious, which against all of his better judgement attracted Castiel more than it repelled him. The dealmaker however was the intriguing point Dean had made – he wouldn't get another chance to meet a Shinarian, not a placid one, so should he really run and pass up this opportunity?

"I shouldn't trust you," said Castiel, looking directly into Dean's eyes as he spoke.

"And I shouldn't trust you," Dean returned, "But that's half the fun of it." He grinned and winked.

There was a silence as Castiel rolled over the situation in his head. It took him a few minutes, but after a while he finally made his decision. "Fine, I'll stay with you, or rather I'll meet you again. My family will be wondering where I am now."

Dean nodded. "Cool. Meet me tomorrow at the Broken Rock. You know where that is, right?"

"I'm familiar with it, yes."

Another grin and Dean picked up a knife off of the ground that he must have dropped when Castiel had ran into him and hadn't noticed until now. "Until we meet again, then," he said, before turning and jogging away presumably to his village.

Castiel watched after him as he disappeared into the greenness before turning around and heading back to his own home. He looked forward to learning more about Dean. In the meantime however he had to figure out some explanation – besides running from Wielders – for not having any of the berries he set out to gather.

* * *

 

The Broken Rock was a large formation that sat on the bank of the river Nardan. It was a well-known meeting place for travellers and fishermen alike because of its distinguishing appearance. The mineral itself was nothing noteworthy, just your garden-variety rock, but the shape begged to be seen. Over the centuries the elements had somehow weathered the rock down to look like a large wolf with near striking detail, except for the snout which had been snapped off by causes unknown – hence the adjective "broken" in the rocks title.

Since it was so recognisable, most had at least heard of its existence even if they had never seen it. Castiel had been fortunate enough to be taken to it by his father, who had told him his own father had shown it to him. It had been during a hunting trip where they had been looking for game to feed the family and Castiel had very much been in awe of the structure when he first encountered it. That was a few years ago, and the memory of Broken Rock had never left him. It somehow seemed extremely appropriate that he be meeting Dean there today, at a time where he was sure to create a plethora of new memories that would always stick with him.

It was a quick journey from the village to Broken Rock. Past the willow tree cluster, through the wisteria tunnel, just behind the fairy rings and there it was in all its glory: exactly the same as the day Castiel had seen it with his father. And underneath, sat below the head of the wolf, was Dean absently picking up pebbles and skipping them across the water of the river.

Castiel walked over to him and cleared his throat when he was within hearing distance. Dean looked up from his pebble skipping and smiled. "Glad you could make it, Cas."

Despite his name being quite easy to shorten, nobody had ever bothered to call Castiel by a nickname before. It was most likely because Anginians tended to be very formal and calling someone by nickname in favour of his or her full name was considered rude. In this instance however Castiel liked the sound of his name shortened – it felt friendlier, warmer, more intimate. If only he could have returned the favour to Dean – but you couldn't really shorten his name.

Castiel took a seat next to Dean and looked out at the water that was softly rippling as it moved down the river. The Nardan was long, but narrow, and it's depth uncertain – although Castiel was sure it was deep. It was home to frogs, salmon and all other manner of fresh-water marine life. Right now none of them were visible, but they were surely swimming happily beneath the surface.

"So what have you heard about the Angine?" Castiel asked, watching the calming movements of the water.

Dean chuckled. "Cutting right to he chase, are we? I like you, Cas, you don't stuff around." He picked up another pebble and threw it across the river. "To answer your question I've heard what you've probably heard about the Shina, just in reverse. You're bad, you're to be feared, and you're very powerful, run if I ever see one of you. You can probably tell I didn't take much notice of the warnings."

Castiel cast a glance at Dean. "For somebody know has never met another Angine, you seem very sure of yourself. How are you not afraid? How do you know I won't obliterate you right here, right now?"

The Shinarian boy ran a hand through his blond hair. "I'm not sure why I'm so calm. The moment you started talking yesterday I just got a good vibe off you, like you weren't any sort of enemy."

"I would hope I'm not that intimidating," Castiel laughed, "I don't feel any more powerful than anyone else. I don't understand why our races fight over such a trivial thing."

"Fear," Dean answered instantly. "They're afraid of each other. They never felt a good vibe."

"Perhaps," Castiel agreed, "I guess we'll never know since we weren't there."

A rabbit hopped out of a bush near the two boys. It looked up at them and twitched its nose in curiosity. The two boys watched it for a few moments to see what it would do. It stayed in its position, fixated on them. Then without any difficulty Castiel bent forward and scooped it up in his arms. The rabbit seemed to go limp in Castiel's hold and made no attempt to escape, instead resting its head gently in the crook of the Anginian's elbow. Castiel smiled and began to stroke its soft fur with his delicate, pale hand.

Dean blinked. "How did you do that?! It's impossible to catch wild rabbits without a trap!"

"I don't know," Castiel admitted, "it's something I've always been able to do. Father says its part of my power; I emit some sort of unconscious magic that calms animals enough for me to be able to pick them up. Rabbits are my favourite though." It was with a disbelieving yet impressed expression that Dean looked on as Castiel patted the animal. It didn't take long for Castiel to notice this. He smiled and nodded down at the rabbit. "Go on, pat her. She won't bite."

Hesitantly Dean reached out a hand and touched it to the rabbit's head. Surprisingly, as Castiel had said, it remained calm and did not try to attack him as one would think it would. Dean's face was concentrated as he ran his palm over the rabbits fur. "This is surreal," he mumbled. He took a few moments to keep patting the rabbit before looking up at Castiel with an earnest expression on his face. "What else can you do?"

Castiel, who had been absorbed in the rabbit, looked up at Dean. "Hmm," he hummed in thought for a moment. He unlocked his arms and suddenly the rabbit was alert again, shaking its head as if to rid itself of the magically induced calmness, and bounded away like nothing had ever happened. Castiel then turned his attention to the river. Stretching out both his hands, he wiggled his fingers and slowly wisps of purple smoke floated out from the tips. They stretched out in front of him and downwards, until they touched the water. In an instant, the entire river was a rich purple colour.

Dean watched on in awe, fascinated with Castiel's abilities. "This is amazing!" he exclaimed, standing up and dipping his hands into the river to cup some of the water. "You're amazing!"

At this remark Castiel lowered his hands and the water returned to its original colour. A slight blush rose to his cheeks. Nobody had ever called him amazing before; to other Anginians he was average, maybe just above average at best with his abilities. Then again commoner Anginians were rarely praised for their talents at all - that privilege was reserved for the royals. Getting acknowledgment for anything filled Castiel with pride. He was really starting to take a shine to Dean.

When the water returned to its original blue-green state, Dean let it pour out of his hands back into the river. "I just don't understand why anybody would want this power hidden." He stood up and walked back over to the rock and Castiel, who now sat with his knees up and arms surrounding them. "Thank you for today, it's been very eye-opening for me."

"That's okay," replied Castiel, once again focused on the gentle rippling of the water. "We should meet again, I'd like to see what you can do – besides the flower thing, I mean."

Dean laughed. "Sure. How about next week, on Tuesday?"

"Sounds like a plan."

The boys idly chatted for an hour or so longer, before parting ways to go back to their respective homes. Both looked forward to meeting again soon. There seemed to be so much to learn from one another, and so little time to take it in.

* * *

 

Tuesday arrived faster than Castiel had expected. It seemed like only yesterday that he was sitting beside the river with Dean, showing him his abilities. As they had planned, he was heading back to Broken Rock once more. They decided that it would be their official meeting place since it was both easy to get to and to find. This time Castiel carried a basket with him, which he had been told to fill with ripe apples. Fruit was abundant this time of year, but that also meant that many went out and harvested the fruit at this time of year. It was always a matter of first-in-best-dressed with fruit picking – you had to be there early for the good stuff. Unfortunately Castiel's family always seemed to get the reject pile, no matter how quickly they tried to get in. Castiel wasn't expecting much different this time of year, in fact he would have been happy with any apples to take home; it was better than going back empty-handed. He planned to forage the apple trees after he met with Dean. His family wouldn't suspect anything if he went home late – apple picking could be a long, arduous task and often took many hours to fine good fruit, so he had a solid alibi for the day.

He walked down to the river, awkwardly hitching the basket onto his shoulder to make it easier to carry. From what he could see Dean hadn't yet arrived. He sighed in relief when he finally reached the bank and deposited the woven wicker basket onto the grass. The sky was a clear blue and the sun shined warmly on Castiel's skin. This section of Lyperia – the Sylvan region – was known for its fair weather. There was rarely a time when it rained, hailed or snowed, although ferocious, bitter cold winds were common in the winter months. Castiel had never travelled beyond the Sylvan region, but he had heard of the other parts of Lyperia. They all differed enormously, but the closest part to Sylvan was the Rime region, which was situated up north from the Grand Sylvan forest that Castiel lived in. He had been told it was a frozen wasteland, almost completely barren of any vegetation except those species that could endure the harsh blizzards that constantly battered the region. It had been rumoured that some particularly cautious Shinarians had created makeshift homes in the Rimen mountain ranges, despite the horrible conditions, to ensure safety from the Angine: since only a an idiot or someone with a death wish would venture through the ice to attack them.

When Castiel thought about the lengths to which the Angine and Shina went in order to separate themselves, he became even more astounded at the situation he was in. Dean could turn on him at any moment and he would be none-the-wiser to his ulterior motives until he did so because he acted so kindly, yet Castiel couldn't help trusting him. There was something inherently comforting about hearing his thoughts on the war reflected in Dean's words, even if they were false. Not all Shinarians could be bad, Castiel wanted – no, needed to believe that, and he could only hope that Dean wouldn't reveal his true colours to be dark and prove him wrong.

A rustle in the bushes behind Castiel alerted him to another presence. He swivelled around defensively to see a leg encased in green tights poke through the lavender bushes that dotted the riverbank and surrounded Broken Rock. A torso joined the leg, then and head, and finally Dean emerged, also carrying a wicker basket. He smiled when his eyes met Cas' who was standing next to the water. "Hey Cas!"

Castiel let his muscles relax as Dean made his way over, dumping his basket next to Cas'. "I thought you were a Wielder," he informed the Shinarian, who laughed at the remark.

"I could see that, you looked about ready to hightail it out of here before you realised it was just little ol' me." Dean pulled out a flask from his belt and took a swig, then offered Castiel one. Castiel took the flask hesitantly. "Don't worry, I haven't poisoned it. If I did do you think I would be drinking it?" Dean asked.

Castiel looked down at the flask without responding and sipped its contents. A light, refreshing flavour filled his mouth; he had never drunk this particular drink before, but he liked it. "What is this?" He asked, handing the flask back to Dean.

"Ginger ale," Dean replied. "Your local Inn doesn't sell it?"

"No," said Castiel, "They only sell mead and cider at the inn in my village. I don't particularly like either, so I just drink water and cows milk."

Dean's eyebrows rose in surprise. "Really? We have all sorts of drinks at our inn. Ales, juices, milks, and dews – I'm surprised you only have mead and ale. Did you like it?"

Castiel nodded. "It's delicious!"

Dean handed the flask back to Castiel. "Then drink the rest! I can get more when I go back home, but you won't get the chance. Nobody deserves to survive on milk and water."

Castiel waved his hands in declination. "No, no, it's fine. I don't mind."

"I insist." Before Castiel could object any further Dean thrust the flask into his hands and backed away so the Anginian couldn't give it back. "No backsies, Anginian."

Castiel let out a defeated sigh and smiled. "Thank you."

Dean waved it off. "Don't mention it." He turned his attention to the baskets on the ground. "You have a basket, what were you planning to collect?"

"I was going to go apple picking after I left you," Castiel explained, drinking from the flask.

"So was I!" Dean grinned. "Hey, you said you wanted to see more of my power, this is the perfect opportunity."

Castiel cocked his head to the side in confusion. "What do you mean?"

"I'll show you. Pick up your basket and follow me." Dean grabbed his own and began heading away from the river, in the direction of the apple trees that grew wildly deeper in the forest. Castiel quickly retrieved his basket and followed after him before he disappeared amongst the ash trees that edged the riverbank.

They walked for a few minutes before they reached a bunch of apple trees close together. Castiel looked up at them and saw that they were almost stripped bare of fruit; only small, unready apples and shrivelled apples that were about to drop from their branches were left. This was what the Anginian dealt with every year.

"If you're wanting to pick apples I think we should fine another tree," Castiel told Dean as he saw the Shinarian put his basket down and approach the harvested plant.

Dean shook his head. "This one is fine."

"But all the good fruit have already been picked," Castiel said, starting to think that Dean might very well be a few chickens short of a brood.

The Shinarian ignored the Anginian's protests and reached up for a branch. He pulled it down to his level and held his other hand above the branch's tip. Again, golden vapours poured from his hand and became absorbed by the tree branch. After a few seconds a blossom began to form on the branch, which then began to turn into a fruit.

Castiel stepped forward as he watched Dean produce the fruit with his magic. Before the Anginian's eyes the apple grew in size and ripened until it was perfect to pick – at which point Dean lowered his hand and plucked it from the tree branch. "Pretty cool, huh?" He remarked, tossing the apple to Cas who caught it and stared at it with awe.

"This is how you pick apples? You just generate them yourself?" Castiel inquired in disbelief, turning the fruit around in his hand.

"Yep!" Dean affirmed. "I can usually get my picking done in about half an hour this way. I'm _awesome_."

Castiel threw the apple in the air and caught it. "And its perfect – large, ripe…" he took a bite. "Juicy," he said through a mouthful of fruit.

Dean laughed. "I can make your apples too if you want, it's not hard."

Castiel nodded vigorously. "That would be wonderful! I always end up with the sub-par fruit that is left behind when I do my picking. It would be nice to bring back a decent basket for once."

The Shinarian walked over and picked up Castiel's basket and took it over to his own. Then he got to work on producing apples for himself and the Anginian who watched him work and ate the rest of the apple in his hand. Dean hadn't been lying, and about half an hour later he had two fresh bushels of apples for himself and Castiel. "All done," he informed, looking down at the full baskets.

Castiel walked up to Dean and gave him back his flask. "Have something to drink, you deserve it after that."

Dean took the flask of ginger ale and drank the last bit that Castiel had left for him. "As you can probably tell, my magic is influenced by the season of spring." He tucked his empty flask back into belt. "All Shinarians have the root of their powers dictated by the time in which they were born. I was born in Spring, therefore its easiest for me to make plants grow, produce fruit, accelerate the rate at which animals give birth or lay eggs, that sort of thing."

Castiel crossed his arms over his chest. "Fascinating. Nobody knows how or wy Angine get the powers they do. Thank you for making my apples."

"Don't mention it," Dean said. "I hope your family likes the apples."

"They definitely will if the one I ate is any indication of how the rest of them will taste," said Castiel.

Suddenly a bolt of electricity shot between the boys and Castiel jumped out of the way. They both snapped their heads to the right where the lightening had come from and a robed Anginian emerged from behind the trunk of an ash tree.

"A Wielder," Castiel breathed, holding his hands out in front of him in case he had to use his magic.

Dean turned to look at Castiel. "A Wielder? What do we do?"

"Fight or run," Castiel replied bluntly, backing up as the Wielder advanced on them.

In one swift movement Dean pulled a dagger from his belt and brandished it in front of himself. "Fight it is then," he shouted and ran to Castiel's side.

The Wielder laughed. "A Shina and an Angine together? This will just not do! And you think you can defeat me? You're so cute."

"Shove it, Witchypoo," Dean retorted, egging the Wielder on. He turned to Castiel again. "Can you disorientate her?"

Castiel nodded and blasted the Wielder with all he had. Suddenly the Wielder staggered on her feet, being hit with a white light that emitted from Castiel's fingertips and lit up his eyes so they looked like glowing white orbs of pure energy. For the Wielder the world span, and she struggled to stay upright.

Only letting himself be distracted by awe for a moment, Dean pushed aside his shock and jumped forward, swinging the dagger across the Wielders neck and slitting it from one side to the other.

The Wielder dropped to the ground, dead and bleeding out over the soil. Castiel lowered his hands and the white light faded from his palms and eyes. His heart beat fast and he shook. He'd always chosen the _run_ option beforehand, this was the first time he had actually fought a Wielder.

Dean wiped his dagger on the Wielder's robes and stood up. "What sort of magic was _that_?" He asked seriously, still reeling from what he had just witnessed.

"I don't know, I just did it," Castiel said, "I can't believe we killed somebody."

"She would have killed us if we hadn't," Dean reminded him, putting his dagger back in his pocket. He walked up to Cas who he could tell was shaken and put a hand on his shoulder. "Don't worry, you did the right thing."

Castiel nodded. "I think I'm going to go home now."

"Okay." Dean took his hand off Castiel's shoulder and watched as he walked over and picked up his basket of apples. "Enjoy the fruit."

Castiel nodded once more. "I will," he said quietly, before heading off back to his village and disappearing in the underbrush without saying goodbye.

Dean picked up his own basket and began to walk away, turning back for only a brief moment to look at the body of the Wielder. He stayed expressionless and showed no indication of how shaken he also was, and then he headed home too.

* * *

 

Castiel didn't venture back out into the forest for weeks after that. He could not think about what had happened and he daren't tell a soul what he had done. Subsequently he did not see Dean again after that day. He wondered how the Shinarian was dealing with everything. At the time Castiel had been so shaken that he did not even think to say goodbye to Dean, let alone notice if he was okay or not. The only think that remained of Dean to Castiel was the basket of apples that he have produced for him. His family had loved them, and had praised Castiel on getting such a good batch this year. He never told them how he had acquired them, but it didn't take long for the basket to slowly dwindle. One by one the apples were taken, until eventually weeks later Castiel reached in and picked up the last one. Somehow it had not begun to rot, instead staying completely fresh despite the amount of time that had passed. The Anginian ate it solemnly, wishing that he had a way of getting another batch so he could see Dean again.

Finally Castiel could take no more of his own brooding and decided to leave a note for Dean in the hopes they could communicate once more. So his family would not see it he wrote it in the dead of night by candlelight:

 

> _Dear Dean,_
> 
> _I'm sorry for leaving without saying goodbye. That was extremely rude of me, especially since you made the apples for me. Thank you for that by the way, my family loved them, they said they were the best apples I had ever brought back. I don't know how I'll live up to their new apple picking expectations next year._
> 
> _I haven't been into the forest since the last time we were together. I've been too afraid to go back until now to leave this note. I've never fought a Wielder before, I didn't know I had that kind of power within me. I'm still not sure how I feel about killing a person – I don't know if I'll ever be able to live with myself, even if she was trying to kill us first. I'm glad you were there because I surely wouldn't have been able to take her by myself._
> 
> _I'm leaving this note under the Broken Rock in the hope you'll return and happen across it. If you find it please leave a reply in the place of this letter. I will return in a week to see if you have replied._
> 
> _From,  
>  Castiel_

The next day Cas went into the forest under the guise of harvesting lavender. He brought his satchel with him, which concealed the note and a small, empty mead bottle that he had ripped the label off of. Using the same path he always did, he went through the forest and walked down to the riverbank. When he got to the Broken Rock he set his satchel down and pulled out the bottle and paper. He squatted down to the ground and unscrewed the lid of the mead bottle. He then placed the bottle on the ground and picked up the paper. Carefully rolling the paper into a tube, he slotted the letter into the bottle and screwed the lid back on. He truly hoped Dean would find it, they had only known each other an infinitesimally short amount of time but that was all it had taken for Castiel to feel as if they were good friends. It might have just been him though.

He leaned the bottle against a "paw" of the Broken Rock, picked up his satchel and went to fill it with lavender sprigs.

The days plodded along, but soon enough the week had come and gone. Castiel headed out to the forest, this time telling his father he was gathering kindling for the furnace. He rushed down to the Broken Rock and found the bottle in the same place he had left it. Disappointment flooded him. He slunk down into the dirt and picked up the bottle. He would most probably never see Dean again now. Castiel supposed that was just the way it was meant to be. He unscrewed the lid of the bottle and slid the paper out into his hand. It probably wasn't a good idea to re-read the letter he had written, it would most likely just make him sadder. He opened it anyway.

His eyebrows flew up to the top of his forehead: what a surprise it was when he found that the note in his hand was not written in his handwriting! No, it was completely different and at the bottom it was addressed from none other than Dean Wintercress:

 

> _Hey Cas,_
> 
> _I found your letter when I went down to the river to fish. I'm happy to hear from you, I didn't think we'd make contact again! So this is what your inn serves its drink in, huh? The bottles a bit small, but the glass is good quality. That's not what you want to hear about though, is it?_
> 
> _It's okay that you didn't say goodbye, we were both just as shell-shocked as each other. Like I said on the day, we did the right thing. She would have killed us if we didn't attack first and we were too close to outrun her. It was for the best, trust me._
> 
> _I'm glad your family liked the apples; I'll have to make more for them someday when we meet again. I suppose it's probably too dangerous to see each other face to face now, but I think we should keep these letters going._
> 
> _We'll each wait a week for the others reply. Then we'll put it in this bottle under the Broken Rock so we know where to find it. If you agree with this idea, leave your reply in the bottle for me to find._
> 
> _Signing off,  
>  Dean Wintercress_

The Anginian was ecstatic. He put the paper back in the bottle and stashed the letter in his satchel – which he had taken with him again on this day. With a grin on his face he went back to the trees to collect twigs for the furnace, excited to get home and write his reply.

* * *

 

Castiel left his note for Dean and then received Dean's reply a week later like it was said he would. The Anginian and Shinarian left notes to each other like this for or weeks, which turned into months that in turn became years. They never met in person throughout this time, for fear that they might be attacked again or somebody might find them together.

The time passed swiftly and soon Castiel was no longer a boy, but a young man of twenty. Not much had changed since the time he had met Dean – he still went out to the forest to gather ingredients and necessities for his family, he still only drank water and cows milk (although he often wished he could have some more of that sweet ginger ale) and he still felt the same way about the war. Yet he had matured, as all people do, and he did not fear the Wielders as much as he once did. He had kept the secret of his and Dean's encounter with the Wielder to himself, but he did not feel as guilty about it as he once did.

From the letters they sent each other Castiel guessed Dean hadn't changed much either, or if he had maybe Castiel just hadn't noticed because it had happened so gradually. They talked of their days and their interactions, the exciting things and the daily routines, it was a most cathartic experience for both of them. Yet Castiel had no intention of actually seeing Dean again in the flesh despite how much he would have liked to.

So it was that he was quite surprised when he opened a letter from Dean that asked if they could meet at the Broken Rock the next day in person:

 

> _Hey Cas,_
> 
> _It's been years since we've actually seen each other, I'm not even sure I remember your face anymore. I know we have stayed apart for safety – but do you think we could break the rules just this once? It's been too long and letters can only convey so much._
> 
> _Meet me at the Broken Rock tomorrow. I'll be there, I hope I get to see you._
> 
> _From,  
>  Dean_

 Of course Castiel didn't even have to think twice about this. The next day he grabbed his satchel and rushed out of the house without even bothering to tell his father where he was going; he all but ran past the willow tree cluster, through the wisteria tunnel and over the fairy rings to the riverbank – the fallen leaves and broken tree branches crunching underneath his hide boots as he moved.

When he reached the Broken Rock there was nobody there. Fortunately for Castiel he was so excited that this did not faze him. A rabbit leaped out from the bushes and the Anginian happily went over and picked it up. He walked back over to the water and stood there looking out at it, patting the rabbit in his arm and waiting for Dean to show up.

"Hey Cas."

Castiel turned around to come face to face with a man of sturdy build, with a sharp jawline covered in stubble, blonde hair and kind yet intense green eyes. It was unquestionably Dean Wintercress – just a matured version. Comparatively, Castiel was slim and lean next to Dean but they stood at about the same height.

Castiel smiled. "Hello Dean."

"You caught a rabbit the first time we met," Dean commented, looking down at the animal in Castiel's arm.

"I did, didn't I?" He bent down and let the rabbit jump out of his arms. "Some things never change I guess." When Castiel stood back up he noticed that Dean was wearing armour. There were only a few reasons people wore armour, so Castiel knew anyway. "You're wearing armour."

"Yes, I'm the law enforcer in my town now. I have to be protected," Dean informed.

It wasn't surprising, considering how gung-ho Dean had been the last time they had been together. Castiel couldn't help but laugh. "It's a fitting job for you."

"What about you?" Dean asked. "Do you work?"

"I work in the church," Castiel said, "I'm the ministers assistant."

Dean grinned, the same grin he had had when he was a boy. "That's pretty fitting too."

Castiel couldn't hold it in anymore. He looked straight into Dean's eyes as he spoke again. "I missed you."

"I missed you too," Dean said. "We've lost so many years, man."

Castiel looked down at the ground. "I know." It was hard to think about just how long it had taken him to get over that day, and how long it had taken to be able to see Dean again.

Suddenly a finger was underneath Castiel's chin, pushing his head back up so he was looking Dean in the eye again. "So screw playing it safe. Sure we've made it this long, but at what cost? Let's not loose anymore time. Let's not allow them to separate us – just because you're an Anginian and I'm a Shinarian, it shouldn't matter Cas. Let's show them it can be done, let's prove them wrong."

Castiel squinted his eyes at Dean in a playfully suspicious manner. "I shouldn't trust you, you know, but I do."

"And I shouldn't trust you, but I do," Dean replied with a smile.

Castiel smiled. "But that's half the fun of it," he finished with a laugh.

Dean shrugged. "Who cares about those assholes, right? We're damned if we do stay apart and we're damned if we don't anyway. We have nothing to loose. Let's make our own rules."

"I like the way you think, Dean Wintercress," Castiel said.

Without another word Dean bent forward and captured Castiel's lips in an unexpected yet entirely not unpleasant kiss. The Anginian didn't even question it – it didn't feel wrong or strange at all, in fact it felt rather nice.

A few moments later Dean moved away, leaving Castiel's bright blue eyes to stare at him curiously. "You taste like apple pie," he commented, finding that his eyes were lingering on Dean's lips.

"My favourite food," Dean replied, "I like to put the apples I make to good use."

"Well, good apples should have a good use," Cas agreed with a grin. "So what should we do now?"

"Let's sit our asses down on this riverbank and catch up on the last god-knows-how-many years."

"Sounds good," Castiel agreed. And they sat down next to the Broken Rock and began chatting about everything they had not managed to include in their letters over the years. And the sun shined above them.

For now, all was well.

**Author's Note:**

> Hello everybody! 
> 
> So this is the first time I've really done an AU, I usually stick to the original setting of whatever I'm writing for but I felt like experimenting and venturing into a different world for this one. I started playing Skyrim recently which inspired me to do a bit of fantasy. 
> 
> I hope to use Lyperia as a base setting for other stories as well, all of which will connect with this one and each other, hence this being part of a series named _Tales from Lyperia_. 
> 
> I promise to get back to Flipside now for anybody who is waiting on the next chapter - this just distracted me for a while. 
> 
> I hope you enjoyed the first tale from Lyperia!


End file.
